


(I Taste) Blood In My Mouth

by younghacker (psyfis)



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Anal, Biting, Blood, Bloodplay, Bruises, Bruising, Choking, Cutting, Felching, Hair-pulling, Injury, M/M, Punching, Rimming, Smut, Spanking, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 10:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5087608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyfis/pseuds/younghacker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens after Elliot opens the door in the finale, A.K.A. the reason why I am not a writer on this show (I almost titled this "hack my ass" but this is a SERIOUs fic ok).</p>
            </blockquote>





	(I Taste) Blood In My Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> If you are not okay with lots of blood/bloodplay then please don't read this, for your own sake. Thanks!

There was a knock on the door. 

Elliot jumped. “Just-just a second!” He yelled. Usually he’d hesitate to say anything when a stranger knocked at his door. But this time, he had a sneaking suspicion he knew who it was. 

Elliot cracked open the door. He was right. It was Tyrell. 

“Hello, Elliot. It’s nice to see-OOF!”

Tyrell was cut off by a hard punch to the gut. “Where the fuck were you?” Elliot snapped, his voice shaky. 

Tyrell chucked, holding his stomach. “What’s it to you?” Tyrell’s comment was cut short by a square punch to the jaw. “FUCK!” Tyrell punched Elliot in the eye. Elliot yelped and fell to the floor. "Stop hitting me, will you?!” Tyrell yelled.

Elliot shot back up to his feet, rubbing his eye. “What’s it to me, Tyrell?! What’s it fucking to me? I woke up in your car after being gone for days, I have no fucking clue how I got there, and you have the goddamn audacity to ask “What’s it to me?” Why was I there, Tyrell? What happened? What did you do? What did I do?” 

Tyrell took a deep breath. “Elliot, you didn’t do anything. The other guy did.”

“What- who’s the other guy?” Elliot asked. He didn’t know why he bothered to ask; he knew exactly who Tyrell was talking about.

“I don’t know what it is with you, but sometimes you’re a neurotic little bitch and other times you’re this cocky, confident character. Right now, Elliot, you’re a neurotic little bitch.”

“Fuck you."

“But the cocky guy, see, I like him. And I know he likes me too.”

“What are you talking about? What were we doing in the car?”

“We had sex.”

“Wha- what?” Elliot was rendered speechless. Why would he do that? He knew Tyrell was a handsome guy, he can admit that much - but sex? 

“I don’t… I don’t believe you.” Despite his doubts, he believed him. Given fsociety, it isn’t the craziest thing he’d ever done. He knew that Mr. Robot - the other guy -had no problem acting on whatever Elliot could only dream of. 

“Yes you do. Are you going to stand here and tell me that you don’t find me even a little bit attractive?” 

Elliot said nothing.

“Thought so. Can I come in?”

—

Tyrell sat on the sofa as Elliot refilled Flipper’s food bowl in silence. Elliot cleared his throat as he got up to move to the sofa. “So, um… why are you here? I mean, what do you want from me?”

Tyrell stood up and approached Elliot, their faces only a few inches apart. “If I’m going to have you, Elliot, I’m going to have all of you.”

“…What?”

Tyrell grabbed Elliot’s face and smashed their lips together. His hands moved from Elliot’s head and wrapped around his throat, securing a light grip. 

Elliot lost the tension in his shoulders and leaned into the kiss. He didn’t know whether or not it was the right thing to do, but the only thing he could think about was the warmth of Tyrell’s mouth and the strength of his hands on his throat.

Elliot’s hands found their way to the buttons on Tyrell’s shirt and fumbled desperately trying to get them undone. He gripped Tyrell’s shirt and ripped it open, buttons scattering on the floor. Taken aback by his sudden sense of dominance, Elliot threw the shirt to the ground and shoved Tyrell on to the sofa. Tyrell grinned as Elliot proceeded to straddle him and remove his own hoodie and T-shirt. As he did this, Tyrell kicked his shoes off and tried to shimmy out of his pants and boxers. After a good deal of squirming, Elliot was left with only his jeans while Tyrell was entirely naked. Elliot leaned down and hovered his face above Tyrell’s, as though he was contemplating whether or not he should kiss him. Tyrell leaned upwards and attached his lips to Elliot’s. 

Elliot reached down with one hand and began to roughly stroke Tyrell's cock, which was already hard and leaking with precum. Tyrell detached his lips from Elliot’s and leaned back, letting out a moan. “Fuck, Elliot…” As much as he detested admitting to it, Elliot loved the way Tyrell said his name, and to his benefit, Tyrell sure seemed to enjoy saying it. Elliot attached his lips to the nape of Tyrell’s neck, biting down softly. “Bite harder…” Tyrell moaned. Harder? Elliot slowed his rhythm on Tyrell’s cock in a moment of hesitation. He had already punched him twice, but he didn’t want to hurt him. Tyrell opened his eyes. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“No, I heard you, I just-“

“Then do as I say, hm?” Tyrell closed his eyes and leaned back, anticipating the bite. Elliot sighed. He bit down on Tyrell's neck again, but this time he kept biting down. He started up a rhythm of stroking Tyrell's cock as he squinted his eyes, biting down as hard as he could. Tyrell moaned loudly. Elliot tasted blood in his mouth. “This is perfect… I’m close…”

Tyrell winced as Elliot felt his hand cover in cum. He reached his hand back up and licked the cum off of his fingers. He couldn’t help but notice the bizarre taste of cum mixed with blood coating his tongue. He looked at Tyrell's neck. It was bloodier than he expected. “Holy shit, I’m sorry…”

“For what?” Tyrell wiped the blood off his neck and licked it off his hand, maintaining eye contact with Elliot. He grabbed Elliot's face and licked his mouth, moaning again at the taste of his own cum and blood. He sat up and pushed Elliot into the sofa. “It’s your turn.” Fuck.

"We need to get these babies off…” Tyrell shimmied Elliot’s jeans and boxers off. He stood for a moment, admiring the view of Elliot’s body. “Turn around. On your stomach.”

Elliot silently obeyed, not knowing quite what to think of the entire situation. Tyrell walked to the nightstand beside the sofa and squirted a handful of lotion into his hand. He positioned himself behind Elliot and stroked himself. Using the remaining lotion, he slipped a finger inside Elliot. Elliot jolted. “Oh, shit.”

“Weren’t you prepared? You should know better than that.” Tyrell lifted Elliot’s hips upward with one hand and slipped another finger inside, eliciting a wince from Elliot. “I’m only hurting you because I love you, Elliot.” Tyrell removed his fingers, resulting in another small whimper from Elliot. “Oh, you were getting used to it, were you?” Tyrell slowly lined his cock up with Elliot and roughly pushed it inside him. “Oh, fuck, Tyrell!” 

Tyrell leaned over Elliot’s shaking body and gripped his throat with a hand, listening to his stifled moans as he continued to thrust inside of him. Elliot’s eyes watered as Tyrell continued to hit his prostate. “Mmm… mmm… MMPH!” Tyrell pulled Elliot's head back by his throat and sunk his teeth into him. It hurt, it really hurt, but Elliot hated to admit that it wasn’t that bad. Tyrell removed his hand from Elliot’s throat and secured it on the sofa, thrusting harder into him, not allowing himself to detatch his mouth from his neck. Ellliot held himself up with one of his forearms and used the other hand to fist his fingers through Tyrell's sweat-soaked hair. Tyrell moaned against Elliot’s neck as he yanked roughly at his hair. Elliot could feel the blood dripping down his neck and moaned at the strange sensation. “Oh, God, Tyrell, I’m gonna…”

Tyrell reached for Elliot’s cock and stroked it roughly, slamming into Elliot. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Elliot came onto Tyrell's hand and onto his own stomach. Just seconds after, Tyrell took his mouth away from Elliot’s throat and came inside him. Elliot let go of Tyrell’s hair as his body went limp against the sofa. Tyrell grabbed Elliot's ass in both of his hands. He leaned down and circled his tongue around the rim of Elliot’s asshole, collecting his own cum onto his tongue. He slivered his tongue inside as Elliot moaned contently, squirming slightly under his grip. “That feels nice.” Elliot mumbled. Tyrell stood back up and wiped Elliot’s neck, then stared intently at his blood-covered hand.

“Elliot?” Tyrell asked, his eyes still glued to his hand.

“Mm?” Elliot’s face was still buried into the sofa.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I don’t think I hurt you enough.”

“Wait… what?!”

Tyrell used his bloodied hand to roughly drag his fingernails down Elliot’s back, tentatively watching the five trails of fresh blood follow behind.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Elliot gripped the sides of the sofa, eliciting muffled sobs. When the job was finished, Tyrell spanked Elliot’s ass, resulting in a high-pitched yelp from Elliot. He laughed. “There we go.”

“Fuck, Tyrell, fuck, fuck, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you…” Elliot cried into the sofa. Tyrell smiled and turned Elliot over onto his back. Elliot gasped at the feeling of his back against the surface of the sofa.

“You know, the cocky guy liked it a lot more than you did.” Tyrell chuckled. He traced a large bruise that had developed on Elliot’s chest a couple days before. Tyrell leaned over and gave Elliot's chest an uncharacteristically gentle kiss. “You could’ve given me a warning,” Elliot whispered.

“One thing you should know by now, Elliot, is that I don’t give people warnings.”

The next day, Elliot was getting ready to take Flipper to the vet. Flipper had swallowed one of the buttons from Tyrell’s shirt. Figures. 

He rubbed his bruised face and looked at the blood-stained sofa. Despite everything, he was glad he opened the door.


End file.
